Martin’s life as he knows it has turned upside-down, and he decides to embark on a trip to give sense to his existence. Via coincidences and fabricated non-coincidences, he finds a group of people that helps him enhance the power of his thoughts to modify the physical world around him.

In a journey within a journey, Martin discovers the powers of visualisation and its pull.

And he acknowledges why he’s flooded by negative feelings when he’s close to certain people.

DON’T UNDERESTIMATE THE ENEMIES.

Unless Martin finds the strength within himself to fight, he and everyone around him will cease to exist.

Book Excerpt

‘Shit,’ Martin whispered. His head flinched a little as if he had Tourette syndrome.

Sofia, from next door, sat next to him on the brown sofa, below the pink and blue painting of the cartoonish giant monster destroying New York City. ‘I know that cringed expression. What was it this time?’ She slightly leaned towards him.

‘It was as if I’d tasted bile,’ said Martin. He slightly poked his tongue out, one hand holding the computer on his lap. ‘I wanted to vomit. I was standing next to this guy on the Tube last night, and I had this unsettling feeling, almost as if his body was releasing strong negative energy. Like a stench of negativity. I felt nauseated,’ he said. His head jolted, and the muscles of his jaw contracted in the recollection. He tasted a static-metallic hint in his mouth, as if he had accidentally chewed some thin foil stuck on the underside of a chocolate bar. He looked up and took a deep breath. ‘I stood next to him with that bitter tang in my mouth.’ He mimicked a dry heave.

‘You’re a special messed up thing.’ Sofia smiled in full best-friend mode. ‘You are.’

Since they were children, Sofia was the only person with whom Martin felt at ease to open up and trust with his oddities. And to her, he was like the brother she’d never had. Martin sighed in relief at her presence.

He pressed command-C and command-V on his laptop. ‘All done.’ He unplugged the USB stick and passed it to Sofia. The yellow retro style table-clock on the side stand flipped the last tile to sign 5:05 am. ‘Thanks. One step closer to my last exam.’ Sofia stood up and waved her hand to him. ‘Come on. We better go now, or I’ll be late for my train. And you for work,’ she said. ‘Good … morning … guys,’ said Martin’s mother suppressing a yawn, walking down the last steps of the staircase.

‘Morning, Laura.’

‘Morning, Mum. I’m off to work.’

‘Okay,’ said his mother. ‘Before you go, your sister and Harry are having their place refurbished, so they will be staying upstairs in Amy’s old room for the next few weeks.’

‘Okay. Love you, bye,’ said Martin putting his coat on. He opened the front door, and they walked across the cobbled Clerkenwell road towards Farringdon station. ‘I’ve had enough of these early mornings,’ said Martin.

‘Well, quit your job then. You’ve been working at the coffee shop for almost two years now. Just for a while – he said. Till I decide what subject to pick at uni – he said,’ Sofia mimicked in an annoyed tone. ‘And bang! You’re twenty-one.’

‘I know. And I should move out from my parents’ house too. I’m caught in a loop of not taking decisions,’ said Martin.

‘Look, at least you’ve saved money.’

‘I guess. But I feel as if I’m almost frightened to figure out what I want and move forward. Stuck in heating lattes and serving muffins. Why am I so different from everyone else?’ He shook his head slightly.

He looked at her with a sarcastic resting face. ‘You’re-so-funny-hah-hah.’

Martin knew he was different, capable of sensing and doing things out of the ordinary, but how and why, he didn’t know. Since he was a child, he witnessed strange events difficult to explain. His mind tangled each time, looking for a logical explanation.

‘Are you going to stay in Cambridge tonight? With … with … I’m not even going to pretend to remember the name of the guy you’re going out with … this week,’ said Martin.

‘No, I’ll be back at my mum’s tonight. And his name is Daryl. And it’s three weeks now. And the sex is very good. As in, very, very good.’ She laughed.

‘Gee, Sofia,’ Martin sighed. ‘I don’t want to know.’

About the Author

Davide Cortellucci is a writer and the author of The Red Book. He has spent the last few years working on an unnamed trilogy, friendly referred by him as Little Yellow Rubber Duck. The Red Book is the first book in the trilogy. He was born on the 25th of July 1978 in Belgium, to Italian immigrant parents. He grew up in Belgium, Italy, and in London, UK. Davide has done several jobs, from waiter to inventories, from sound engineering in shows to events manager, and many more. Davide is a college dropout with a couple of creative writing courses on his back. He has spent many years travelling around Europe, learning about cultures, and keeping an interest in the power of the mind. Davide loves writing stories that awaken the epic feeling within the reader. He now lives in South East London with his partner, he’s curious about life, and he also makes a great pasta sauce.